Days of Camelot Past
by The Hope Lions
Summary: Destiny is cruel, but especially to Merlin. In an attempt to ease his pain, and help them stop Morgana, destiny decides to show the Round Table each other's past hoping they'll find some meaning in it. Sorry, this is a bad explanation, but basically you get to see everyone as kids and it's fun and painful. Don't read if you're easily triggered.
1. Prologue

I know, I know there are a million of these, and this one probably won't be any more original than the rest but I don't really care. Some of the things I've 'stolen' are just things that need to be there. I do hope you enjoy though, and that you find my version interesting. Also, if you're triggered by abuse, or suicide attempts, or anything of the like, don't read this fic. There is a lot of violence in it, often against kids. I'm not a nice writer. I'll say now that some chapters are pretty short; don't hate me.

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Prologue

Destiny had no face, no body, no name, but she was the most powerful force on earth. Gods bowed before her decisions; kings fell at her hand; servants kissed her feet. She was everything, but even she saw her callousness sometimes. And those sometimes always seemed to be when young Merlin held his legs and sobbed on top of his rock-hard bed.

Of all the people on the earth, destiny knew she'd been most cruel to Merlin. She'd been most cruel to all those of Camelot really, and perhaps there was something she could do about that. It would be risky, and she'd be defying herself, but it would be worth it.

If Merlin had to cry, he at least didn't have to be alone.

The Round Table of Camelot found themselves standing by a lake that spread as far as their eyes could see. Swords were drawn, as the Knights didn't know how they got there, but Merlin's magic didn't rise within him. He knew this place, if only from his childhood dreams. There was nothing to fear here, except for each other.

"Mate, there's an image in the water!" Gwaine balked looking down at the figure.

Arthur scowled, "What kind of magic is this?" To answer his question, a young girl rose from the lake, her eyes lingering on one member of the present party for a second too long. "Witch! What have you done to us?"

"Nothing," the girl admitted, her voice as elegant as Merlin remembered. "I have not brought you here young Pendragon, and I cannot send you away. Destiny has tasked me with being here to help you though the experience, but I am no more in control than you."

"I recognize you." Arthur wasn't sure how, but he had seen her face before. "Name yourself?"

Arthur's sword passed right though her, terrifying the knights, and breaking Merlin's heart again. "I am the lady of the lake, a spirit who guards this place and its secrets. Before I died though, my name was Freya."

Gwaine scowled, "Now that can't be true, because I asked Merlin once when he was drunk if he'd ever loved anyone, and he said she was named Frey…" Even he wasn't thick enough to continued after looking over at Merlin's tear-stained face. "Blimey, you're Merlin's lost love? Merlin, you fell in love with the lady of the lake?"

Freya reached out her hand to hold his, even though both knew she was nothing but water vapor. "Merlin fell in love with a girl, and lost her, causing him much pain. And that is why we are here today, because Camelot faces a grave threat. If you are to defeat it, you cannot be ignorant of each other's past. Destiny has willed it shown, all of it."

"She'd telling the truth," Lancelot whispered not looking up from the lake. "About destiny showing us our path…that's my mother, and if she's having a baby then it's me."

Freya nodded, fading back into the lake. "I will be here if you need me, but I do not have the answer to everything. Some things may have to remain a mystery."

"Merlin," the boy heard Gaius whisper in his ear. "If we're going through each of our paths then eventually we'll get to yours."

The boy had been thinking just that. Sooner or later Arthur would discover Merlin's magic in the worst possible way, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

"Well, I'm not cooperating with what this sorceress wants, even if Merlin was in love with her," Arthur grunted walking away from the lake. Guinevere grabbed him though, giving him a hard look. "You can't really think it's a good idea?"

Gwen was no fool. "I think it's our only option. I know magic, and if we try to leave we will not be able to. Not until whoever did this, destiny, Freya, get what she wants."

Arthur sneered, but looking into his love's eyes, nodded and sat by the lake with the others. Reluctantly, they all looked down at baby Lancelot, and felt themselves sucked into the memory.


	2. Chapter 1-Lancelot

Chapter 1-Lancelot

While discussing their situation, the group missed Lancelot's birth, catching him as a little toddler. The boy ran through a field, chased by someone they could only assume was his mother. The woman was trying very hard not to keep up, and the reason why was revealed when a man stepped out from behind a tree and scooped the boy up into his arms. "What you running from, little man?"

"There's a dragon after me daddy!" the little boy squeaked as his father tickled him. "We gotta run!"

The man laughed, winking at his wife, "You don't run from dragons Lance, not when you're a knight."

"What's a knight?" The group had a feeling they knew why this memory had been deemed important.

Lancelot's father had a kind disposition, but he was withered and tanned from working in the sun all day. As he sat his son on his lap, the man looked far more serious than before. "Knights are the brave men who live in the castle and come to protect us when we need it. They're the people who aren't ever defenseless, even faced with a dragon!" The man began tickling his son again, and the scene changed.

Lancelot was probably now about seven, and he stood in the kitchen of their home. It was a humble place, a firm reminder of the fact that he wasn't a noble, but not bad. Guinevere, who had knowledge of such things, suspected it took a lot of Lancelot's mother's time to keep such a place in such good shape.

She wasn't cleaning now though, but handing a bag of money into a large man's arms. "Please, take the money, just don't take our animals. Without donkeys to plow, and cows to milk, we'll die!"

"I have plenty of money," the man snarled slapping the bag to the floor. "It's those horses you call donkeys that I need. Now hand me the key to the barn." The terrified woman shook her head in refusal, and the man slapped her. "Either I take the horses or I burn them and this pretty little house of yours."

Lancelot came running up, his wooden sword in hand. "You leave my mother alone!" he cried hitting the man at his waist, snapping the sword.

"Look what we have here," the bandit chuckled picking Lancelot up by his shirt collar so that the boy was choking. "This little boy wants to be a hero, doesn't he? Well then, I don't burn down houses with little heroes in them, so maybe I'll just have to take him away first…"

"Please," Lancelot's mother begged, tears staining her dress as she ran inside. "Take the key to the barn. Take the horses. Just leave him alone!"

The bandit smiled, tossing Lancelot onto the cold dirt floor. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, ma'am, and hey kid." The man picked up the broken sword, and tossed the hilt right back at him. "Few more years I might just add you to my little band with a swing like that."

With his final threat/compliment, the scene shifted. Lancelot, now ten, was running with his shirt over his mouth. The house from before stood crumbling under the flames that encompassed the whole village, but the boy ran in undeterred. "Mother! Father! Where are you?" He didn't hear an answer, and ran towards their room. "Mother! Father!" he cried pounding on the stuck door.

"Lance!" his mother cried back from the other side. "Lance you need to run! We'll be right behind you just get out and to the woods as fast as you can, okay Lance?" The boy nodded, not noticing the beam that was ready to fall in front of the door, shutting it forever. Doing as his mother ordered, Lancelot ran through the village, ignoring the screams and cries around him. Theodora, a girl he'd liked, was screaming, as a bandit stood over her. Without thinking, Lancelot grabbed a fallen beam, and picked it up. The wood seared his hand, but he still swung it at the bandit, who knocked it aside. The terrified boy began running again, until he reached the edge of the wood. There he waited for his parents, knowing they had to have escaped the collapsed house. They just had to.

The fires burned out before Lancelot even moved a muscle. Rain soaked, and shaking, the boy headed back into the destroyed village ready to ask if anyone had seen his parents. Instead, he discovered a far worse sight before him. Bodies, burned beyond recognition, many with swords sticking out of them. Screaming hysterically, Lancelot ran to the rubble of his own house. He could just make out the frame of his parents bed, and screamed when he realized the corpse stuck beneath a beam. His father was dead before Lancelot even left the house, and he'd never even known it.

There was no corpse to be found for his mother, but Lancelot didn't spend much time looking. If she was alive, she'd have found him; there was no question of her death.

The scene shifted once more, as Lancelot, barely looking any older, was pushed onto a stage his hands tied behind his back. "That's not," Arthur recognized, speaking for the first time since the events began. "Lance you weren't…"

The knight didn't reply, only watched as his younger self was forced to hold a sign with a measly price; pigs were sold for more. One man, a brutish one with a scarred eye, took up the offer, and ended up carting Lancelot away before the scene shifted again.

Somehow, Lancelot had gotten a hold of a sword. He still maintained the tell-tale clothes of a slave, but he was older now, probably 16. The boy seemed pretty deft with the blade, moving it as an extension of himself, and defeating the hale he fought easily. "Seventy-six!" someone cried their voice harsh, and Lancelot dropped the sword and ran out. "Get back to work you fool."

He didn't even flinch when the whip hit his back. Instead, he gritted his teeth, and went back to working the field until the sun went down. As soon as he was free, the boy went back to working with the sword.

When the scene changed, Lancelot had his master at the end of the sword. "I am leaving," he declared before looking around at his fellow slaves. "We're all leaving, and if you object try saying it with a cut throat."

The man didn't say anything, and Lancelot began walking away the others following bravely behind him. As they went, the whip lashed around Lancelot's neck, and he fell back words. "I'll kill you for this," the master bellowed running towards the escaping slaves. "You'll regret…" Lancelot never found out what he'd regret though, because his sword went through the master's gut.

The Round Table found themselves sitting beside the lake, entirely silent. "I never knew," Arthur finally admitted, looking at the knight in a new light. "I'm sorry."

The others went to say it as well, but Lancelot cut them off. "I do not want your pity. I feel none for myself. Destiny brought us here to understand, not regret. It is a time that is passed, and shall stay in the past. I have not been a defenseless child in a long time; I am a knight of Camelot."

"That you are mate," Gwaine, who never spoke so quietly, stated clapping Lancelot on the back. "Well then, if this is what we're in for, who's next." No one believed that the drunk was actually enjoying this, but it was a good show. They all needed to pretend like this hadn't hurt them as much as it undoubtedly did.


	3. Chapter 2-Elyan

Don't hate me, but this is one of the short chapters I warned about. Others are wicked long for me though so shh. Also, I've been asked about the order they are watching in, and challenge you to figure it out. You'll probably need a few more updates to get it, but I'm sure I can come up with a prize for whoever figures it out first. Enjoy!

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Chapter 2- Elyan

"Is that your mother?" Leon asked looking at Gwen and Elyan, and they nodded. "I don't remember ever seeing her this young." Not even her children did, probably because Gwen hadn't been born from the looks of how young Elyan was. He didn't stay young long, though, because the scene shifted to where he, around age 3, was holding a newborn baby in his hand.

"This is Guinevere, your sister," Tom admitted, trying to shield his son from his mother's sick body. "You need to take care of her, okay bud?" Elyan nodded, sending the scene in a new direction.

The two siblings were older now, probably seven and four, and a boy whose curly hair gave him away as Leon joined had them. They ran through a house far too nice to be anything but Sir Leon's estate, and as they turned a corner, Leon crashed into an expensive-looking vase. Hearing the crash, a woman came running. "Which of two did this!" she shrieked at Elyan and Gwen. "I knew better than to let the help bring her children! I should whip you both!"

Elyan looked to Leon, expecting the elder boy to admit it was his fault, but he looked away. Realizing it was the only way to protect his sister, Elyan spoke up. "I broke it ma'am. Don't hurt my sister." The woman didn't, but they saw Elyan whipped fiercely.

"I'm sorry," Leon admitted, clearly not having thought of this day in years. "My mother…she shouldn't…I should have told her the truth."

No one agreed or disagreed, they just watched as Elyan grew up again. Now he was probably 15, and his muscles showed how he'd been working as a blacksmith. He hammered away, listening as his father spoke proudly to a customer about how his daughter had been chosen to be the chambermaid of the king's ward. Jealously was evident in the boy's eyes, as his father merely yelled at him for not working faster.

Elyan looked to be an adult in the last scene, and future!Gwen found herself hiding her head against Arthur so she didn't have to look. Elyan and her mother sat in bed, clearly wracked with fever and slow to breathe. "Guinevere," she coughed out. "Go see if Gaius has any more of his remedy. I think it's working."

The girl looked terrified to leave, but she ran off, leaving mother and son alone. "Elyan," the woman whispered grabbing her son's hand. "I am dying. I will not be here to care for your sister and father anymore. That is your task Elyan. Promise me you'll take care of them."

Elyan nodded, but said nothing as the woman stopped breathing all together. Once she was dead, Elyan, stony look on his face, rose and walked out of their house, not a tear in his eye. Gwen, who was returning, potion in hand, saw him and broke down sobbing in the street. Elyan didn't go to her though, instead, he just went out back, grabbed their only horse, and rode off with only a bag over his shoulder. The scenes ended, much to Gwen's distress. Though she wouldn't admit it, she'd hoped to get a taste of those years her brother never spoke about.

The whole group stood silent, processing Elyan's harsh dismissal of his sister. Angered, Arthur threw a punch right at Elyan, and the skilled knight didn't even try to block it. "Arthur no!" Gwen yelled holding him from swinging again, but Elyan shook his head.

"No, I deserve it. I was terrible to you Guinevere, I was. Mother asked me to take care of you, and I let her die thinking I would, and left before she was even cold in her bed. I deserve far worse than what Arthur has given me."

Leon, who remembered the time from an outsider's perspective, placed a hand on Elyan's shoulder. "You'd spent your whole childhood taking care of your family. You're not a horrible person for not wanting to do it for your adulthood too."

Elyan didn't look like he believed him, but he nodded. "Thanks."

"I wonder who's next," Merlin whispered praying it wouldn't be him. Sooner or later the truth would come out, but not at the moment.

"Is that Merlin?" Gwaine asked looking at the dark haired, blue-eyed baby. But Gwen shook her head.

"I've met Merlin's mom, that's not her."

"Then who is it?" No one had an answer, but Merlin had a sneaking suspicion that destiny wanted to remind him that just because someone wasn't a member of the round table, that didn't mean they weren't part of his destiny.


	4. Chapter 3-Mordred

10 points to KIMMIKY for realizing that the order is, in fact that in which they died in the show. (Or up to the point we know. For Percival Leon ect I just sorta made it up.) Fun, eh? Ha ha, actually I cried a but when I realized that was what I wanted to do but whatever.

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Chapter 3-Mordred

The boy's mother died during childbirth, and from the sound of it no one expected the child to survive either. Or, more accurately, they hoped he wouldn't. "Throw him in the river," an old woman cried staring down at the tiny infant. "He brought death to his mother, and he'll bring death to the Once and Future King! Kill him and Albion will be ours."

The man holding him, presumably the father, shook his head. "No. He's just a babe! We have no way of knowing it's him. I won't let you kill Mordred!" The two struggled, and the man fell, cracking his head on a rock. The old woman picked up the baby, and, smiling like a madman, put him in a bag with rocks.

"I'm sorry child, but I must do my duty to Lord Emrys. I must help him save the king," the woman whispered, before singing a lullaby in the tongue of the old religion. As she tied him up, a man approached her from behind, and, seeing the dead body of Mordred's father, cast a spell to knock the woman back. The bundle that was Mordred fell into the air, but was caught by magic.

"Wait," Arthur whispered looking upon the scene then back towards Merlin. "I recognize that man. He was a druid my father executed, so that makes… hang on, is that baby the boy we helped save?" Merlin nodded, unable to look away from the sight of his foe as an even more helpless child then when they met. "And who is this Lord Emrys? I've never heard of him?"

"Lord Emrys is a druid fairytale, sire," Gaius admitted trying not to look at Merlin too much. "He's destined to help the Once and Future King unite Albion as a land where magic is free."

Arthur smiled then. "I'm glad I saved the boy then, if he's to stop this Once and Future King from overthrowing my father." The Prince's words broke Emrys's heart, but Merlin didn't correct him. Instead, they turned back to the shifting images.

Mordred was now a little older, unable to walk, but with a deft skill at magic from how those things around him floated. "Wait a minute," Arthur spoke up again. "How is he doing that? He's a baby. He probably can't talk, never mind read and recite spells!"

"Some people are known for having innate magic, sire," Gaius answered this time unable to not look at Merlin. "They do not need to study it as sorcerers do, which is why they are called warlocks. For them, magic is as natural a skill as breathing."

Arthur seemed shocked, and probably wouldn't have believed Gaius if he wasn't seeing the proof before him. Everyone seemed shocked actually, so Merlin had to feign the reaction as well, despite the look Lancelot was giving him.

Mordred was now four, and standing outside a druid tent chasing butterflies. "We cannot allow you to stay with us much longer, Cerdan. We are loyal to Lord Emrys, and even if he is a child someday Mordred will be their doom."

Hearing his name, the boy peaked into the tent where the elders of the clan sat facing his angry guardian. "His destiny can be changed, but not if he's alone in the world! If he doesn't grow to hate magic he'll never hate the King. Camlann will not come to pass!"

"That is a risk we cannot take," the man, who from his dress appeared to be a chief of some sort, declared. "You must leave within the fortnight, or we shall take action against the boy." Cerdan went to storm out, so Mordred ran away. He still heard the chief's last words though. "Cerdan, if you have any respect for our ways and the future Emrys can bring us, you'll put him out of his misery and kill the boy."

The scene was shifting again, to an older Mordred and Cerdan being kicked out of yet another camp. At this point, Mordred looked to be the eight or so he was when Merlin met him, so the true Emrys wasn't surprised by the next words he heard. "We'll go to Camelot for supplies, okay, and then we'll find somewhere new to go."

Mordred was crying, and it broke everyone's heart. (Even Merlin as little as he wanted to admit it.) "You should have listened to Leof and killed me. Then they wouldn't hate you so! I'm a monster!"

Cerdan seemed surprised that Mordred knew all of this, but he bent down to the boy's level before speaking. "You are not a monster, and everyone is wrong about you. They refuse to believe that every man has two destinies to choose from, and you have yet to make your choice. You will choose right when the time comes Mordred, I know it. Have faith, Mordred, Emrys has come to save you as well as them."

Cerdan began walking, but Mordred looked right at where the time-travelers stood, and his eyes met Merlin's. "Emrys help me. I want to be good."

"That's terrible," Gwen finally admitted, looking at the empty place where the boy had stood. "To know everyone wants you dead because of some future you may happen to have!"

Gaius shook his head, " I suspect the boy feared death because of his magic, far more than from the peaceful druids. He only found himself without a home because of those prophecies."

"What are these prophecies?" Arthur asked sounding more and more like a king whose nation was under attack. "How have I never heard of them?"

Gaius didn't look Arthur in the eye. "Your father forbade all talk of them, sire. He didn't believe any 'true king of Albion' would return magic here."

Arthur seemed troubled at the word magic, but didn't say anything until Freya came from the water to speak. "Destiny has decreed you should be done for the day. Rest, eat, you shall continue tomorrow."

Everyone was glad they didn't have to go through any more of those, but they were still quiet. For most of them, the idea of people being born with magic was as terrifying as the thought of a mysterious king and powerful warlock trying to overthrow the Pendragons.

And those who'd seen their childhood today found themselves haunted by them. Lancelot never saw himself the first time he killed, and it reminded him of the monster they all had the potential for. Elyan, on the other hand, knew exactly what his potential monster was like, and struggled to remember he wasn't that man anymore.

"You should tell Arthur about your magic," Lancelot, who could use anything to get his mind off his own past, urged Merlin. "Before he sees you using it like we did Mordred."

Merlin knew Lancelot was right, but he couldn't bring himself to walk over to the King. It still wasn't the right time, even if Merlin's time was running out.

There was another, though, whose secret was running out of time even sooner, and Gwaine was not looking forward to how differently everyone would treat him tomorrow night.


	5. Chapter 4-Gwaine

Chapter 4-Gwaine

Merlin and Gwen made breakfast for the group, who ate and laughed as if they weren't going to have their pasts displayed for all to see again. It was a weary joy, though, so none complained too much when the images reappeared in the lake, and they settled down to watch.

A little girl looked down upon a newborn child. "He's ugly," the girl, with her thick Scottish, almost Scandinavian, accent, sneered. "I thought babies were supposed to be cute."

The children's mother offered her daughter a stern look, "He will be when he gets older Margaret. You were this wrinkly too when you were born, so be nice to your brother."

"At least my name isn't stupid," the girl, who was probably eight, laughed. "Gwaine is such a stupid name, why'd did you call him that?"

The woman, who was tired from childbirth, just called in a woman to send the girl to bed. As she did, the scene shifted, and Gwaine grew.

He was now probably five or so, and his sister, who was now almost a teenager, ran after him. "Gwaine, give me back my necklace! You know Richard gave that to me! He promised to marry me so long as I wore it always, so give it back or he won't marry me."

Gwaine didn't want to though, and kept running into he ran right into the woman who'd put his sister to bed all those years ago. "Lord Gwaine," she chastised with a look. "Did you take Lady Margaret's necklace?"

The boy would probably have lied, had it not fallen from his pocket. "I was gonna give it back," he muttered as Margaret snatched the locket away and went off muttering about him being a terror. "I promise I was."

"I believe you," the woman, a servant from the state of her clothes, agreed. "But one day you'll be a knight, so you better get used to following the knight's code. Not stealing is part of that, you understand?" Gwaine nodded, whether or not he actually did inconsequential. "Good, now go take a bath, and remember little Lord, that a noble always must be honorable, or else they are not worthy of their position."

"She keeps calling you a lord," Arthur finally pointed out as the scene shifted again. "Was your father a knight?"

Gwaine didn't reply, but that was answer enough as the scene shifted.

"I don't like being a page," a seven-year-old Gwaine muttered to himself kicking off dirty boots. "It's all 'clean my armor Gwaine' 'saddle my horse Gwaine' but never 'come ride with us Gwaine'. I hate it! I don't want to be a knight!"

A man, who from the looks of him was Gwaine's father, stood by the door as he said this. "And to think your mother worries about my dying in battle. Who would have thought my own son would kill me by breaking my heart?"

"I'm sorry Dad," Gwaine sighed looking sheepish at having been heard. "I didn't mean it."

The man nodded, "I know you didn't. It's okay if you don't want to be a knight you know, I was only kidding about it breaking my heart."

"I don't have to be a knight?" It was an option Gwaine didn't even know existed, and he looked pleased by the thought. "I won't have to follow all the rules and I can do something fun then!"

The man rubbed his son's hair fondly, "Even if you're not a knight there are rules Gwaine. You'll always be Lord of this estate, knight or not, and there are responsibilities that come with that."

"I just want to have fun," the little boy sighed, kicking his bed. (And, though he tried to hide the pain, regretting it immediately. "Even Margaret gets to have fun. Margaret gets parties so she can meet Lords to marry. No one cares about me."

"Would you like to marry a Lord?" Gwaine's father joked with a laugh. "I'm sure, when you're older, you'll find someone perfectly suitable to run this estate with you. But I need to know Gwaine, before I leave again, whether or not you're going to be a knight. It's silly for you to waste your time learning to fight if you're just going to change your mind later."

Gwaine knew that, and he pondered the thought. "King Caerleon needs brave men like you to fight for him. I'll be brave and fight for him too."

"That's my man," the Knight smiled snuffing out the candles in his son's room. "Oh, and Gwaine, why do we fight when the odds are bad?"

Gwaine smiled, thinking of the family motto, "Because it's only when the odds are against someone that they need you to fight for them." His father was almost out of the room before Gwaine spoke again. "Does that mean the odds are against King Caerleon with this war?"

The Knight didn't answer, but those gathered's knowledge of history did, even before they saw the next scene.

"Please, your majesty, I beg you," Gwaine's mother stood in front of King Caerleon still dressed in the black clothes of a widow. "My husband served you his whole life. He died fighting for your crown. I beg you to grant me the money that would have been his pension. My daughter's dowry needs paying, and my son has only just begun his squireship. Without my husband we have nothing."

King Caerleon looked at Margaret and Gwaine, both of whom were doing their best not to cry in front of their King. "I'm sorry Lady Anna, but the crown does not have the funds to pay every widow her due. Take his wages for his last months, and put those to your daughter's dowry. There is nothing else I can do."

The bag of gold would be enough for Margaret, but it was not enough for the family to live on. Squires weren't paid for their services, and the estate generated so little income it was nominal. The family had nothing but a name.

The next scene saw Gwaine, now a teenager, riding away from his estate, which now looked run down and despairing. Soon enough, Gwaine arrived in a tavern where, after getting in a fight, he discovered the skills he learned when training to be a knight were far better than the common man's. "I'll wager a dozen gold pieces for anyone who can beat me in a duel," the man sniggered again and again as the members of the Round table saw a dozen different bars.

They also saw him fighting for those who needed it though, just as he had Arthur and Merlin the first time they met. The man drank, fought, and pretended he wasn't miserable, all while sending whatever money he could back to his mother and their estate.

"I've often wondered why half your wages go to the tavern and the other half all the way up to Orkney," Leon admitted looking at his fellow Knight in a new way. "I never wanted to look too far into it, afraid I'd find bastard children or something."

No one saw the way Merlin seized at the word; they were too busy being surprised by Gwaine's noble heritage. "No, nothing so dishonorable. I'm sorry for not telling you," he looked towards Arthur, who, after Morgana, really was sick of lies. "But it didn't matter. You were the first noble man I found worthy of fighting for Arthur, because you respected me even when you didn't know who my family was."

Arthur nodded, not angry, more shocked. "And to think I've fought with my councilors about you being a commoner and a knight. I guess that is one weight off my chest."

"I wonder who'll be next. Leon maybe?" Percival muttered looking at the lake, but the baby that was being born was most definitely not Leon. One look, and even in her most innocent form, she was recognizably Morgana.


	6. Chapter 5-Morgana

Chapter 5- Morgana

Arthur turned from the events unfolding around them, trying not to look at his sister/ mortal enemy. "Why are we seeing this?"

"Same reason you saw Mordred probably," Merlin admitted with a sigh. He should have expected this would happen, especially where he knew Mordred and Morgana were two halves of Arthur's doom.

Everyone tried not to seem interested in their enemy's past, but they couldn't help it. Everyone wanted to know where Morgana went so wrong, but they wouldn't find it in here. Though no one said as much, it appeared they only saw memories up until whoever it was met Merlin. Morgana wasn't evil before she met Merlin. She was a beautiful, wonderful, good human being during his first couple years of Camelot… it was only later that things began to go so terribly wrong.

Morgana was a beautiful child, and she knew it. Even without knowing she was a princess she acted like one, and her father, or, well, the man she thought was her father, treated her as such.

It was Morgana's seventh birthday, and from what Arthur whispered her last birthday with Gorlois. The little girl was following her father eyes closed tight, until he finally told her to open them. "Happy birthday!"

Morgana ran and hugged the beautiful pony. He was just the right size, not too big for her to ride, but large enough for her to keep for at least five years more. His fur was a dappled grey, and he nuzzled Morgana as she pet his side. "He's gonna come with me everywhere!" the little girl squeaked. "He'll be my shadow! That will be his name, Shadow!"

Her father hid the halter that had the name 'Midnight Cloud' stitched into it, and smiled. "That's a wonderful name Morgana. I'm sure he likes it very much."

The scene changed, so that Morgana was now on Shadow, her eyes red and puffy. She sat outside the gates of Camelot, her awe driving away the pain of her father's loss for a minute. As she waited, the gates opened, and a much younger Arthur followed Uther out to greet her. "My dear Morgana," Uther greeted his daughter pulling her off her horse and into a hug. "I am so sorry for your loss, but I promise you will always know a father's love." She nodded, looking surprised by the King's intimacy. "You remember my son, Prince Arthur?" Uther asked letting the girl down on the ground. Morgana nodded, curtsying a little.

"I'm sorry about your father," Arthur muttered, looking both anxious, and bored at the same time. "He was a good man."

Even at her young age, Morgana knew the words lacked sincerity, and scowled at her new brother (in an all too literal sense.)

"He was never very casual, was he?" future!Arthur sighed shaking his head. "I don't know why it was such a shock to discover her heritage considering how Father always treated her."

Gwen placed a comforting hand on the Prince. "You never could have known. You wanted to see the best in your father and in Morgana.'

Arthur nodded looking upon the new scene, "We both did."

Morgana was probably ten, and a equally young Gwen entered her chambers with a curtsy. "My lady, my name is Guinevere. I am to be your new maidservant."

"Aren't you too young to be a maidservant?" Morgana asked sliding off her bed to go look at the girl. "My old maidservant was old. That's why she died."

Gwen shrugged, "Perhaps that's why the King requested someone your age this time."

Morgana considered the idea, but then shook her head. "No, I think he was just not thinking. You're probably going to be a very poor maidservant, but that's okay. I have lots of servants, but I don't have lots of friends. Only Arthur but he's mean."

"They say if a boy is mean to you that he likes you," Gwen offered as she went to brush Morgana's hair. "Maybe Arthur has a crush on you."

Morgana stuck out her tongue, clearly hating the idea. "He's my brother. Well not really, but he may as well be. Besides, Arthur doesn't have a crush on me. He doesn't even like me, said so himself."

"Well I like you, my Lady," Gwen offered with a smile. "So perhaps we don't need Arthur."

"I like you too Guinevere," Morgana laughed, glad to have someone her age to talk to.

The scene shifted again, to Morgana, a bit older than before, play sword fighting with Arthur. The Prince pushed her hard, but the girl managed to push him into the mud. "Morgana!" the girl dropped the wooden sword upon hearing the King's cry. He came dashing over as Morgana helped Arthur up. "I've told you before it's not a woman's place to use a sword. Where is your maidservant?" He found Gwen standing a little bit away. "Do you know how to sew a gown?" Gwen nodded, looking confused. "Good. I will provide you with whatever fabric you need and you are to teach Morgana how to sew a dress." He turned back to his ward. "You are no longer a child, and it's time to stop acting like one."

The scene shifted again, to Morgana standing on the edge of a ball talking to Gwen. "You should be out dancing, this is to celebrate you turning sixteen after all," the servant urged her friend. "Why, you're old enough to find someone to marry amid these handsome knights."

"Whoever I marry will be Uther's decision, Gwen," the girl sighed. "There's no need to pretend it won't be a political move. He has no daughters to marry off; I'll be as close as he can get."

Gwen patted her friend on the back. "I'm sure you'll be marrying a Prince then. Maybe you'll even marry Arthur." The Prince was dancing with some poor girl who seemed to shell-shocked to notice him stepping on her feet. "It's your party, you need to celebrate."

"I don't want to," Morgana decided, leaving her servant behind as she ran off towards her room. The scene shifted again, but Morgana was still wearing the same dress. Now though, she was crying on her bed.

"My lady are you still awake? Gwen asked knocking on the door. When she didn't get a response, she must have left, as Morgana went back to her silent tears.

The next scene saw Morgana looking the same age as when Merlin met her. "The poor boy wasn't doing anything wrong!" Morgana was yelling at Uther in the throne room, and this looked more like the woman they knew. "His mother swears he has had his abilities since birth, and Gaius says such a thing is possible! You can't execute a man for who he is, especially when he only used his abilities to save my life!"

"And in doing so he sacrificed his," Uther sneered not even looking down at the girl. "My decision is final Morgana, and as I know you have not been sleeping well I will ignore the way you've spoken to me. Now go get a sleeping potion from Gaius and go. Thomas Collins will be executed tomorrow as planned, nothing will change that, not even you."

Morgana wasn't even out of the room before she began crying, and the scenes ended.

"She seemed so normal," Percival, who never knew pre-insane Morgana, sighed.

"She was so normal," Gaius answered looking sad. They all looked sad. How had that little girl gone so wrong?

"Thomas Collins's execution was the first thing I saw in Camelot," Merlin admitted looking into the empty space. "I never realized he was a warlock, or that he'd saved Morgana's life."

Arthur nodded, looking grave. "Morgana was out in the lower part of town when she got mugged. Thomas Collins saved her, but exposed his magic doing so. She fought tooth and claw to keep my father from killing him…"

"Well it does seem a little idiotic," Gwaine admitted with a shrug. "Man save Daughter, King kills Man, Man's mother tries to kill King's son. Sounds like a nasty cycle that all started with a good deed. Not the kind of thing someone should be executed for."

"He had magic," Arthur snapped, but he didn't sound too convinced. "Yet Morgan thought he had magic from birth, just as Mordred did. It makes me wonder if everything my father taught me about magic being corrupting is true."

Merlin almost tripped over himself at Arthur's words. "You don't think magic is evil anymore?"

Arthur didn't respond, probably because he was too busy looking down at where he was being born.


	7. Chapter 6-Arthur

Good news, bad news. Bad news is this chapter is much shorter than you would expect. I found myself unable to write much about Arthur's childhood and I don't know why. So sorry there. Good news is I'm working on another fic in which Merlin is Uther's bastard son so yay, if you like stuff like that then I guess it's good news...

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Chapter 6-Arthur

"I still never got to see her alive," Arthur whispered, realizing that she was dead by the time he noticed her being there. "She died the second I was born." Magic tended to work like that, but Merlin didn't mention that. As far as Arthur knew, Morgause had been lying about the reason for his mother's death.

The next scene showed Arthur as a small child sitting in his room. Toys were scattered around him, but he didn't play with them. Instead, he stared out the window at the setting sun until a servant came in to put him to bed. "Father promised he'd visit me today," the boy told the woman. "I can't go to bed before he comes."

"Your father is not coming, sire," the servant, a robust woman who was probably his nanny, confessed. "The King is a busy man. I'm sure he'll come and visit you as soon as he gets back to the Citadel."

Arthur looked heartbroken. "He left, without saying goodbye? But what if a dragon gets him! I'll never see him again."

"Your father will be home soon," the nursemaid promised messing up his blonde hair. "No dragons slain this time. He's just gone to this little village called Ealdor to find a criminal who caused him much pain. Now go to sleep Little Prince."

Arthur looked over at Merlin. "Why did my father go to Ealdor when we were just little kids? Did you ever hear stories of why he would risk invading Cenrid's kingdom?"

Merlin knew exactly why Uther went there. "I don't know. That was before I was born." That was when his father had to flee.

The next scene had Arthur hunched over his desk, writing the alphabet when Uther walked in. He seemed shocked that his father was there, but Arthur ran right over to show him the paper. "Astolen says I have the neatest handwriting you've ever seen! Look Father."

"Yes, yes, it's a very good drawing," Uther replied looking around the study for someone who very obviously wasn't there.

Arthur began to cry, "It's not a drawing. You didn't even look!"

"Why are you crying?" Uther asked looking down at his son for the first time. "Are you not going to be king someday? Kings aren't supposed to cry!"

"But children are," the nursemaid from the past few scenes muttered scooping the crying Prince into her arms. "And that is what he still is. A boy who just wants his father to pay attention to him."

Uther brushed away the thought, "Arthur will spent plenty of time with me once his basic studies are over and I begin to teach him how to be a King. It doesn't matter if I'm around now; he's too young to remember this anyway."

Future!Arthur's eyes said that wasn't true at all. Clearly he remembered this day well.

Arthur sat at dinner with Morgana and his father. "How are you settling in?" the King inquired of his ward, just as a servant tripped, dumping Arthur's plate on top of him. "How dare you attack your Prince like that," Uther howled drawing his sword on the servant.

"It was an accident my Liege," the servant, who was barely older than a boy, tremored. "I did not mean any offence, my Prince. Accept my deepest apology."

Arthur, who looked scared, didn't say anything, but Uther wasn't done. "Guards! Throw him in the dungeon for the knight. Perhaps his next employers will find he learns manners from it. Uther waited until the servant was gone to go back to eating. "You must never let one disrespect you Arthur. When you are King the servants must know to fear you."

"You were being terrible to a servant first time we met," Merlin recalled looking over at his friend. "Your father taught you to act like that? I always assumed he just never taught you better."

Arthur shrugged, trying not to show how ashamed he was. "Manners for a Prince are different from the manners of your class, Merlin. It was just what was expected of me."

"So you really were training to be a prat all of your life?"

Arthur just smiled.

The next scene had Arthur older, and the gathered group recognized it well. It was the same fight between him and Morgana they'd seen only a little while before.

"Morgana!" the girl dropped the wooden sword upon hearing the King's cry. He came dashing over as Morgana helped Arthur up. "I've told you before it's not a woman's place to use a sword. Where is your maidservant?" He found Gwen standing a little bit away. "Do you know how to sew a gown?" Gwen nodded, looking confused. "Good. I will provide you with whatever fabric you need and you are to teach Morgana how to sew a dress." He turned back to his ward. "You are no longer a child, and it's time to stop acting like one."

Morgana ran off crying, but Uther turned towards his son. "Grab the sword." Arthur did so, and found his father pull out his own, fully real sword. Arthur's blue eyes grew wide as the King swung at his son, who tried to block it with the wooden sword. Arthur's sword was just slashed in half though. "Your work is pitiful," Uther sneered. "If I wanted you dead right then, even if you had a real sword, you would be. A girl can fight better than my son," the King huffed as he walked away leaving Arthur with only his broken sword.

In the next scene, Arthur stood next to his Father's throne as they heard petitions. "There is a camp of druids by my house, your majesty. They're poisoning my crops with their magic," a balding man told the court. "I beg you, dispatch your knights to rid my land of their evil."

"At once," Uther commanded gripping his sword tight. "No sorcery shall continue in Camelot. I will even have Prince Arthur lead the attack on the camp."

Arthur seemed shocked, and terrified, but he only nodded. "I will do my best."

The image shifted forward a few days, and they stood in front of the burning druid camp. "Spare the woman and children!" Arthur called over the screams as he ran around unsure what to do. "We're Knights of Camelot, we do not hurt the innocent…" Arthur looked around at the destroyed camp, where his knights were butchering everyone they saw. "We don't hurt the innocent..." The last words were barely a whisper.

Arthur looked younger as he stood by the lake after that. With the exception of Gaius, they hadn't known him well as a child. "Your father put you in charge of men who were far too old to respect you," Leon himself hadn't gone on that raid, having been deemed to experience (despite being five years older than Arthur.) "It wasn't your fault they didn't listen."

"They were my men. They should have respected to me. Or maybe they should have feared me, my father never saw the difference, why should I?"

Merlin began to wonder if seeing the darkness of Arthur's past was changing him back into the man he used to be. "Because you are not Uther. You believe in equality, knighting common men, and treating all your servants fairly." Merlin smiled. "Well, most of your servants at least. The bruise on my head from when you last slapped me says you're actually just like your father."

Arthur slapped Merlin again, but he was smiling as he did so.


	8. Chapter 7-Gaius

AN: I know Gaius is like 20 years older than Uther, but it's my fic and so in this it's only like a 5 year age difference and Gaius just didn't age well… Whatever, it's more fun this way.

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Chapter 7-Gaius

"That looks like Camelot, but whose flags are those?" Arthur questioned looking down at the scene. A baby was being born right outside the Castle, where green flags flew. "Wait, I recognize those from my history lesson. They're the sigil of King Ladd, but who here was born before my Father conquered Camelot?"

"I was sire," Gaius admitted looking down at the strange scene. "It appears destiny wishes to give us all a history lesson."

Gaius was a cute child, but it was weird to see the physician as anything other than old. The scene was simple, but elegant never-the-less. He ran through the city, and magic surrounded him. Fires danced like dragons. Protection amulets were sold on the street corners. Even the castle was surrounded in the thick haze that came with continuous magic. The scene was ethereal, but as it changed the group remembered it was a time long passed.

Now, he ran through the halls of the Castle, a man quite a bit younger, beside him. "Uther, Gaius," Gaius's mother called after them. "It's time for your lessons." The two boys looked at each other, before Gaius grinned.

"Heoloþhelmas," Gaius whispered, and the two suddenly disappeared from sight, much to his mother's chagrin. She couldn't follow them though, and the two boys escaped into an empty chamber as the spell wore off.

"I wish I was that good at magic," Uther admitted, much to the astonishment of the viewers. "You're so much better at everything Gaius."

Gaius shrugged, "You're better at fighting. I'm sure if you let Balinor help you you'd get good too though."

Uther shook his head, and leaned in to tell his friend a secret. "Balinor showed me a dragon one day, and the dragon shot fire at me. Balinor said it would only have done that if I was evil. I don't like him."

"Well then neither do I," Gaius decided with a firm not. "Because you're not evil."

"I know," Uther smiled. "Balinor is just silly. It's because he's little." They were little themselves, but every ten year old thinks himself an adult.

The new scene, however, had the boys grown up, probably in their early 20's. They, along with a few others (including Balinor), sat in the cave by the woods. "King Ladd, has gone too far," Uther growled pacing. "He butchers all who speak against him. If we let this continue soon enough we'll all be dead."

"I think you're right," Gaius admitted nodding vigorously. "We need a new leader, and I think it should be Uther." The others gathered nodded. "He is the King's second cousin, and has the best claim to the throne. Others will follow him."

Uther seemed shocked, but he nodded grimly. "If you shall support me I will exert my claim."

"Ladd killed my father," Balinor admitted standing. "I will support you, and my dragons will stand with you."

The others gathered went to offer their support as well, but the scene changed before they could.

Uther now had a crown on his head, but Gaius still stood beside him. "I would like to make you my official court sorcerer," Uther told his friend as they walked through the Citadel. "Many feel Balinor would be better for the role, but I want it to be you."

"I am honored," Gaius smiled. "But tell me this doesn't have anything to do with Balinor calling you evil when we were kids."

Uther laughed, causing the world to shift again.

"I know you're in pain, but this isn't the answer!" Gaius yelled storming into the throne room where an exhausted Uther sat. "Magic didn't do this! Nimueh tricked us."

Uther stood, not looking at his long-time friend. "King Ladd used magic to terrorize this kingdom, or did you forget why we conquered it? Magic corrupts."

"So now I'm evil? I've been your court sorcerer for years!"

"Then swear at my feet magic has not corrupted you as well," Uther ordered drawing his sword on his friend. "And if you cannot I will know you are too far gone." He pushed Gaius to his knees. "Swear that you will never use magic again, and I will let you live despite your sorcery."

"I swear it," Gaius whispered looking up at his friend with terror for the first time. "I renounce sorcery and the old religion, and I give up my position as court sorcerer."

Uther nodded, sheathing his sword and helping the man up. "You were always my most trusted friend." He handed him a scroll. "These are all the sorcerers left in Camelot. Prove your loyalty by capturing them for me."

Gaius looked at the list, and knew he couldn't.

"There is a woman living in the town of Ealdor, right inside Cenrid's kingdom." Merlin's breath caught himself as he realized they didn't even have to get to his own memories for everything to be revealed. "Her name is Hunith. Tell her Gaius sent you and she will help you."

"Thank you," Balinor told the physician. "Now I should go before Uther kills you as well."

Gaius nodded, but couldn't let the man leave without asking the question. "The Great Dragon is the last of his kind just as you are now. Tell me, is this the terrible future he spoke of when we were children and he tried to kill Uther?"

"I fear it is," Balinor admitted hanging in the doorway. "And I find myself now wishing I'd let the King be burned to death."

"So that's how you knew where to find him," Arthur understood looking at his Gaius. "You knew the man."

Gaius nodded, trying not to look at Merlin. "Both your father and I knew Balinor well. We grew up together and fought to secure Camelot for your father. It was a grave betrayal when he tricked Balinor into imprisoning the Great Dragon."

Arthur didn't even say 'but he had magic this time'. He was too busy questioning everything he ever knew.

"What's in that letter you're reading?" Gwen asked looking at the silent scene before them. "I went to read it, but it's like how you can't read in your sleep."

"It was just a letter from Hunith telling me Balinor had moved on to safety," Gaius wasn't exactly lying, but he and Merlin both knew it wasn't the complete truth.

"Strange to think your mother knew a dragonlord," Arthur chuckled looking at Merlin. "She always was far more interesting than you though."

Merlin rolled his eyes; a few more scenes and Arthur would know just how wrong he was.


	9. Chapter 8- Percival

Come on guys, patience. If you want me to work on your schedule, well, I do commissions. (I'm just kidding guys, I love the enthusiasm. Patience is for wimps.)

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Chapter 8-Percival

"What a tiny baby," Gwen cooed looking as they were sucked into the next set of images. "It's a wonder he even survived. Who is this, I don't recognize the woman."

Percival raised his head, eyes dark, "It's my mother. That tiny little thing is me." Merlin didn't manage to hold in his laugh. "Oh you think that's funny? I don't imagine you were much larger."

"Smaller actually," Merlin admitted with a shrug. "It's just funny to see how much you've grown, that's all." Everyone did seem to find it hilarious, and in the end Percival laughed to. He laughed until realizing that destiny didn't seem to think much of his early childhood was worth showing.

Unlike with Lancelot, Percival's village wasn't destroyed with chaos. He stood along with his parents, probably five or so, trembling as Cenred's knights walked back and forth. Boys were pulled from their mother's arms. Father's were cut down before their sons. Mothers and daughters brutally raped. Percival closed his eyes, unable to look.

"You scared little boy?" a cold man whispered into his ear. Percival opened one eye, just in time to see the knights sword go through Percival's mother. "Then run," the knight hissed before Percival could even scream. "I always did love a good chase."

Percival didn't even look back at his dead mother, or hear the screams of his dying father. He just ran into the woods, his stubby legs trying their hardest not to trip. He panted hard, hearing the thudding sound of footsteps behind him. The little boy ducked under a tree stump, allowing for the knights to run past. There, beneath the tree he sat, trying not to breathe for fear of being heard, Percival sat long into the dark night. His tears froze on his face, and his body shivered as snow began to fall around him, yet the boy didn't move. Not until the sun rose, and he saw a figure moving in the trees.

It wasn't a knight, that much was obvious from his clothes, but Percival still hid. How could he know if this man was friend or foe? Especially not when he noticed the ball of light floating in front of him.

"In Cenred's kingdom magic is legal," future!Percival admitted looking back on the sight. "But it was still distrusted. Uther was known to wander past the borders in his hunts, and those helping sorcerers were just as culpable."

More reason's why Uther's hatred destroyed lives. "But you didn't run away from him," Lancelot, who everyone suspected knew this story, acknowledged.

"No," Percival agreed shaking his head. "I did not."

The group turned back to the scene before them where the man, who Merlin suspected was a druid, bent down before Percival. "Shh, don't worry I will not hurt you. Was that your village over there?" Percival nodded slowly. "I'm very sorry for your loss then. Cenred's men are monsters, but soon enough the Once and Future King will free us from their terror."

"That blasted king again," Arthur murmured. "I'm starting to doubt the good I saw in the druids. They're all threatening to overthrow me!"

Gaius shook his head, "I suspect, sire, that you would find that not to be the case. There are some who would argue you are the Once and Future King who will overthrow others to bring peace to the land."

Arthur didn't even have the words to respond to such a statement. Instead, he just turned back to little Percival.

"Come with me," the druid told the boy. "You'll be safe with us for the time being. Though I suspect when you are older you must leave our ranks. Destiny has a different plan for you."

The scene shifted, and Percival was older now, albeit still being amid the druids. "Forbaerne," Percival whispered holding out his hand. When nothing happened, he tried again. "Forbaerne."

"Magic is not something everyone can learn young Percival." It was the druid who'd saved him years before who spoke now. "I've told you before that we do not see magic as a part of your future. Where you're going it would not be an advantageous skill to have. It is your might that will give you a place there."

Percival seemed confused. "You mean I'm going to go to Camelot? Why would I go there?" he asked, scratching his hair (which was amusingly long).

"It is impossible to know what destiny wants. I can only tell you what I've seen and that is you, standing in the red cloak of Camelot's knights."

If Percival commented on that, it got lost in the shifting of images. He now was older, a teenager, and ran down a cliff. Bandits attacked a woman, but Percival, with only a crappy (probably stolen) sword fought them. In the end, three bandits were dead, and Percival helped the woman to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," the woman nodded scrambling to her feet. "I was lucky there was a knight around."

Percival smiled. "I am not a knights, just glad to have been of service." He sheathed his sword. "I'm Percival."

"Matild," she replied, smiling brightly. "I hate to ask another favor of you, Sir Percival, but could you possibly escort me back to my home? I fear they might show up again."

Percival nodded, and the two wandered in silence until they reached a modest hut. A young boy came running out, stopping only when he saw Percival. "Gwaw," Matild told the boy with a look. "This is Sir Percival."

"Really, I'm not a knight," Percival repeated, smiling far too brightly. "It is nice to meet you Gwaw."

The boy didn't say anything, just ran back inside while his mother laughed. "Sorry about that. My husband died only a few months after he was born, and he's not used to men. Especially not men of your caliber. I'd invite you in, but I'm not sure you'll fit in the door."

Percival laughed. "I will be on my way then. Stay safe, Matild." He went on his way down the road, but only until he heard the woman call out.

"I'm sure you could manage to fit in the door though…if you'd like to. It appears Gwaw still doesn't understand how much must be cooked for only two people and we have plenty of stew… If you don't mind staying to help me finish it."

Percival of the past smiled and turned around, but Merlin noted his Percival looked grave. This story did not appear to have a happy ending.

"Percival!" the voice was so young it had to be Gwaw calling out, and Percival ran after him. The boy stood at sword-point, and Matild lie sprawled on the ground.

"I heard this little boy talking about there being a knight up here," the swordsman cackled. "And I said no knight of Cenred's army would shack up with a girl like that. Where you from then? Mercia? You're too young to be one of Uther's men, but it's a possibility."

Percival gritted his teeth, reaching down to confirm what he already knew. "You've killed her," he whimpered tears streaming out of his eyes. "You've killed her and for what? Because you thought she harbored a spy? I'm not a knight! I'm not from Camelot, or Mercia. I'm a traveler that's all. Now let the boy go."

"Draw your sword then, Knight," the man growled not believing Percival. "And maybe, if you win, I'll let the boy go."

Growling, Percival swung out at the man. He misjudged though, slashing the captor in the face, but not realizing how close to the mountain's edge they stood. Gwaw went flying over into the valley, and Percival ran down after him.

It was as Percival stood, the broken boy dead in his lap, that Lancelot first appeared. "Was he your son?" Lance asked his empathy overwhelming.

"No," Percival admitted, going to grab a shovel from the tool shed. "No, but he was my fault. They both were."

It was probably the same night, as Lancelot stood next to Percival who'd just covered the graves. "Come with me. I could use someone else handy with a sword. You're good enough to be a Knight of Camelot."

Lance didn't realize how the words stung, not until Percival snapped. "What do you know of Camelot's knights?"

"I know I was one, once," Lancelot admitted. "And I know you're like me, alone, having lost everyone, and waiting for a new hope. Perhaps, if you come with me, we'll both find that new hope together."

"Only the Once and Future King can save us now," Percival whispered, but he stood anyways and went with Lancelot.

"It's funny, because we got the raven from Merlin only a couple weeks later, and then I met you." Percival admitted once the scene ended. "And you have been the best thing ever to happen to me. Perhaps Gaius is right. I knew many stories of the Once and Future King, and you're as close to him as any man."

Arthur shook his head. "It is impossible. You forget the second half of the prophecy, about the warlock Emrys who will help me though. No warlock would ever help me. Not after what my father and I have done."

"I think you'd be surprised Arthur," Merlin admitted unable to stop himself. "I think you'd be surprised."


	10. Chapter 9-Merlin

After a week of waiting it's finally here! Yay! Oh, and I lied about this being the last chapter I forgot about the epilogue. Well, it's the most anticipated chapter, and the longest I've ever written (which is king of sad but whatever) so without further ado...

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Chapter 9-Merlin

Destiny didn't force them into their next vision, but instead allowed for them to break for lunch. Someone, presumably Freya, had cooked while they were out, so Merlin found himself in the awkward position of not knowing what to do.

"Walk with me." Merlin turned to see Freya standing on the lakeshore behind him. "There is much I must tell you."

Merlin looked over to where Arthur was watching the couple suspiciously, but the Prince didn't speak. Deciding Arthur would hate him soon enough anyways, Merlin followed the girl.

"There are no memories of Guinevere or Sir Leon," Freya admitted once the pair was far from the others. "I think it has something to do with their fate not being a part of yours, just a part of Arthur's." It was true when Merlin thought about it. Sure, he knew Gwen before most everyone else in Camelot, but Gwen wasn't his story, just Arthur's. And of all the knights of the round table Leon would be the most likely to side with Arthur over Merlin, as he is the only one who was actually raised to be a Knight of Camelot.

"Does that mean I'm next?"

Freya nodded, "You're the only one left. I suspect, though I don't know for sure, that you won't be sucked into your past as everyone else has. Destiny did this for you, and she will probably let the others talk Arthur down before he can stab you with Excalibur."

"He's going to hate me," Merlin grumbled looking over his shoulder to where the Prince was still watching him. "I'll have to leave at the very least, and who will protect Arthur then? If destiny is trying to help me, why couldn't she leave well enough alone?"

Freya stood as Merlin exploded, and waited until his eyes stopped glowing to speak. "Destiny is not a person, Merlin. We may speak of her as such, but she is not a god making decisions, or a man dealing with consequences. She's an immovable force. She doesn't know the plan for the world; she is the plan. I cannot explain why this has happened, but I can tell you it has. Arthur has changed much already. He's accepting magic. It is quite possible he will accept you."

"Or he'll run me through with his sword and I'll have to join you as the manservant of the lake or something," Merlin grumbled much to Freya's amusement. "I'm just not ready for things to change."

Freya's hand managed to touch Merlin's shoulder, to both of their surprise. "Everything changed the moment you ended up on my shores. Now it's just time for the last rock to fall and for the ripples to fade."

Merlin kicked a pebble into the lake and watched as what she said happened. "The ripples always do fade in the end, don't they?"

Freya was smiling as she nodded.

Back by the shore, Camelot's troupe were having a very different conversation. "How can Merlin trust her?"

"Because he loves her, Arthur," Gwen reminded the man with a soft smile. "And he got her back after losing her. I imagine he trusts her more than anything."

Arthur shrugged, "It's still kind of strange that only Gwaine has ever heard of her. And that was when Merlin was drunk."

"He told me about her once," Lancelot admitted not looking up to the Prince. "She was a druid girl cursed to turn into a beast every night. You killed her defending Camelot, and that's when she became the lady of the lake."

Arthur was too stunned to say much of anything. "I remember now. I didn't know Merlin loved her."

"He did not want you to know sire," Gaius admitted looking over at the pair. "Because he did not want you to feel guilty over her death. She was killing people, if not by choice. Her death was a mercy, as little as Merlin likes to admit it."

"Speaking of Merlin," Gwaine grumbled looking into the lake. "If he doesn't get back here he's going to miss the next set of images. I wonder who it is."

Gwen looked over, and recognized the woman. "It's Merlin. I recognize his mother." With that said they were sucked into the scene. "Merlin didn't come with us."

"That's odd. We all went even when it was our own past," Arthur reminded the group looking over to where Hunith was panting through childbirth. (Then looking away very quickly.)

Gaius looked over at his niece, not saying anything to the party assembled. Soon enough they'd know why it was best Merlin stayed behind, and Gaius only hoped between he and Lancelot Merlin would be well defended.

"I'm not sure it's best for you to hold him," the nursemaid admitted once Merlin was born squealing. "He's so tiny. He won't survive."

Hunith was not going to accept that. "Give me my son. If he dies he should at least have known his mother."

The nurse looked apprehensive, but she handed the tiny baby over to his mother. "I've never seen anyone that small," Gwen admitted looking on their minuscule friend. "He could fit into one hand. How is it Merlin is alive?"

Magic was the answer, but Gaius wasn't going to betray the boy's secret before the scene before them did.

The nursemaid left, and Hunith and Merlin sat in their tiny cottage alone. The mother cried, suspecting her son's death would be soon, but the baby held on as she sang. It was a Welsh tune, one she knew from Balinor, and, ironically enough, it sang of Emrys. "Emrys , y gwaredwr , rhad ac am ddim ni o boen . Help wrth i ni gerdded drwy'r nos. Y brenin yn cysgu trwy arswyd , ei fab anymwybodol o'r dyfodol, mae'n rhaid iddo ddod .

Emrys , oh Emrys , achub ni rhag poen . Ein gosod yn rhydd rhag marwolaeth . anfarwol byddwch yn dweud celwydd gan eich brith cyntaf , tan y diwrnod pan hud yn marw .

Pan fydd y noson yn tynnu oer , ac yr ydych yn mynd i orffwys , cofiwch y rhai sydd angen eich cân . Cofiwch y rhai byth pwy fydd yn dod i ben eu gorffwys , ac yn canu hwiangerdd iddynt.

Emrys , oh Emrys , byddwn yn cadw eich cyfrinachau . Hyd nes y diwrnod y byddwch yn gosod ni am ddim . Cofiwch fod eich addewid , eich tynged , fel y mae eich plygu i chi pen-glin . Cofiwch fod eich addewid eich tynged , hyd nes Albion wedi ei osod am ddim."

Perhaps the baby heard the prayer in the song, as his eyes opened a burning gold, a wave of magic coursing through the house. Broken chairs fixed themselves. Molding food ripened. The house was suddenly spotless…all because Merlin opened his eyes for the first time.

"Magic," Arthur breathed out on the brink of a panic attack. "That was magic. Baby Merlin just did magic. Merlin. A sorcerer. No, a warlock. Merlin is a warlock. He has magic."

The Prince didn't seem mad, but he was certainly upset. All of those from Camelot were, to varying degrees.

"You knew, didn't you?" Gwen asked looking between Gaius and Lancelot who couldn't manage to feign shock. "Both of you knew. He told you?"

Lancelot shook his head, not wanting to make them feel like Merlin cared less about them. "He didn't have to. We saw him use magic…to save our lives. That's all he ever uses his magic for, to save your life Arthur."

"Why would he do that?"

The answer came in the form of a knocking on Hunith's door. She'd laid the baby in a crib, shaking the whole time and begging for the gods to spare her son from the cruel fate of a warlock. She was terrified her baby would be ripped from her arms and killed, and it broke Arthur's heart because he and his father were the reason why.

"Where is Emrys?" a voice asked when Hunith opened the door. "I was just passing by your village when I felt him. Where is he?"

Hunith tried to slam the door on the druid, but he used magic to force it open. Terrified, the woman drew knife from her kitchen and held it in her shaking hand. "I do not wish to hurt him," the druid whispered, hands up in peace. "I wish to pay him homage. Since the Purge's beginning I've been waiting to hear mention of someone feeling Emry's power. I never suspected the gods to make me the blessed one. Please, tell me where he is."

"Emrys is a fairytale, a legend," Hunith stammered trying to block the man from seeing Merlin's crib. "There is no one here with magic you speak of. Please, leave, before you get us killed."

Her slip up was all the druid needed to push past her, and see the crib. Shaking, he fell to his knees before it. "Of course. He's only a child." He turned to Hunith. "I will not hurt your son. No druid would dare. He is Emrys, our savior, or one day he will be. For now he is in your care. Until he grows."

"Please, leave," Hunith stammered and she slashed at the man when he didn't. Face bleeding, he left, and Hunith threw herself sobbing over Merlin's crib. "My son. Please don't be Emrys. You don't deserve his fate. Please, not my son."

Arthur shut his eyes, and looked away from this scene. "Merlin is Emrys. That's what he meant when he said that I'd be surprised by a warlock who'd stay in Camelot to protect me. He was talking about himself."

"Yes," Gaius nodded surprised the Prince wasn't throwing things. "Yes. Merlin is Emrys and you, Arthur, are the Once and Future King destined to set things right and bring magic back to Camelot. He has been in Camelot for years protecting you; all while under the threat of death should he be discovered."

Arthur shook his head. "But…Merlin! I could never have killed him! He should have told me."

"From what Merlin has told me about his childhood, you might realize why if you watch," Lancelot admitted as the scene shifted around them.

Merlin was only a couple years old, but he sat next to his mom as she worked. There was an old man with a cough sitting in their hut watching the boy as Hunith brewed something. "So this is your son nobody ever sees. No wonder he never leaves the house he looks ready to jump into the grave. You'd think a healer would keep her son healthier, but maybe you're not that great of a healer are you."

"Leave her alone!" Merlin yelled, his magic smashing the vials around him. Hunith, realizing what happened, moved her arms so quickly it looked like she'd been the one to send everything flying. It was such an adroit move, Arthur suspected she had lots of practice with it.

"And she's clumsy too," the man grumbled, taking his potion and walking out the door. Once he was gone, Hunith turned towards her son.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!" Merlin cried tears bubbling over his eyes. "Please don't make the knights take me away. Please don't!"

Hunith wrapped Merlin in her arms. "I'll never tell anyone about you Merlin. I'll never send you away. But you have to control your magic. Old man Simmons is too blind to notice much of anything, but if he saw your eyes you'd be dead. And you remember what dead is?"

Merlin nodded, breaking Gwen's heart. At such a young age he shouldn't know what it meant to be dead. He especially shouldn't be able to give such a description as, "Dead is when everything hurts, and then there is nothing at all, not even Mommy."

"No one can know," Hunith reminded, before turning away and looking to the sky in prayer.

Merlin was older now, and he sat in a tree on the edge of the village. "You know you're my only friend." Merlin told the squirrel whom he was feeding out of his palm. "The other kids don't like me because I'm a bastard. I don't know what it means to be a bastard, but I know they don't like me because of it. They say so."

"What happened to Merlin's father?" Arthur asked Gaius, afraid to know. "Why would the man possibly leave?"

"Because of your father, sire," Gaius sighed, knowing this was another thing Merlin had never wanted to burden Arthur with the knowledge of. "You remember Balinor, and how I sent him to Hunith?"

"Merlin's father was a dragonlord?" Percival whooped, knowing better than anyone else what that meant.

"I told Merlin no man was worth his tears," Arthur remembered, feeling progressively worse and worse as the scenes went by. "I never knew it was Merlin's father."

But it was, and Merlin had only known him for a day before his death. All because of Uther's hatred. A hatred that, until the day before, Arthur had shared.

"Hey big ears!" a kid called from the bottom of the tree. "You spying on us? You a little spy?" Merlin pulled his legs up and shook his head. "Come down here and I'll show you what happens to spies!"

The boy reached up for Merlin, who, trying to get out of reach, fell backwards, dozens of feet down, out of the tree.

The kids who'd been bullying him ran over yelling. "Is he dead? He has to be dead."

Merlin, however, just sat up, his arm angled oddly, but otherwise fine. The kids screamed, running away as they called him a freak and a demon. Crying, Merlin ran back to his house, where his mother set the arm singing softly as she did.

"Am I a demon?" Merlin asked him mom, and the group from Camelot got the feeling this wasn't the first time he'd asked such a question. "They said I should be dead and I wasn't because I'm a demon. Does my magic mean I'm a demon?"

Hunith shook her head. "The only demon is Uther who fools himself into thinking magic, not men, is his problem. You're a very good, and a very lucky boy Merlin, okay?"

Merlin nodded, but as the scene shifted again, he still looked very upset. In the new scene, he looked equally as upset, despite now being a young teenager.

He was still alone in the tree as well, and this time there wasn't even a squirrel to keep him company. "What are you doing up there?" Merlin looked down to see a boy his age staring up at him. "Blimey you're up really high. Aren't you scared you're going to fall and die."

Merlin hoped down, obviously not scared. "Don't worry. I can't die. Trust me, I've tried."

No one wanted to ask what Merlin meant by that. "All the stories I heard when I lived with druids said Emrys was immortal until his destiny was complete. Do you figure that's true?" Percival muttered to the others.

"It would explain his lack of a healthy sense of fear," Gwaine admitted, looking down at his future friend in a new light. "Do you really think Merlin tried to kill himself?"

"Well it would explain the scars," Gwen mumbled before realizing no one else had probably ever noticed them. "Have you never wondered why Merlin always wears long sleeves, even during the summer? I saw him roll them up one day when he was really hot. They're covered in scares."

Arthur shook his head, "We're his friends, and we never knew anything about him. Forget magic, this is the kind of thing he should have told us."

Everyone nodded in agreement, before turning back to where Will and Merlin were first meeting. "Do you like knights?" Will asked the boy who had yet to give him a straight answer to anything.

"No," Merlin admitted probably thinking of Camelot's knights who would kill him should they get the chance. "Why are you one?"

Will shook his head, "Of course not. My father worked with knights and now he's dead."

"At least you had a father," Merlin mused smiling to himself. Will smiled too, clearly glad he hadn't been offered sympathies. "I'm Merlin, town bastard, hated by everyone, and a freak in many senses of the word."

"Will, new guy in town, ready to make everyone hate me, orphan, and friend of freaks everywhere."

"He's a sorcerer too," Arthur recalled looking down on the scene. "Or that's what he said. I'm not sure it wasn't just him covering from Merlin now that I think about it."

"I think that's the only time Merlin has looked happy in one of these scenes…granted we're all pretty miserable in most of these," Gwaine admitted thinking of what they'd seen. Everyone had had a miserable childhood, but none so much as Merlin apparently, as no one else had turned to suicide attempts by age 14.

"Run!" Merlin was yelling at Will as a tree fell in the next image. Will jumped to the side just as a tree tumbled onto an empty house. "Oh gods, old man Simmons is going to kill me," Merlin mumbled looking down at the crushed house. Will was just staring at Merlin. "What's wrong?"

Will walked over to where the tree stump sat. "It's a perfect cut, done with one cut, and you don't have an axe," Will didn't appear scared, more impressed (and a bit pissed). "Merlin, we've been best friends for two years now, and you didn't think to mention in all that time that you know how to use magic!"

Merlin's hand covered Will's mouth as the warlock dragged his friend into the woods. "Please don't kill me. I don't want to have to fight you, but, but I will." Merlin, magic or not, looked like he would lose that fight, but Will laughed.

"I'm not going to kill you Merlin! Magic is what it is, a tool, a force of nature. Like wind that knocks down houses, and cools down summer days. And it's a bloody awesome tool to have. Can you imagine the kind of pranks it could be used for?"

Merlin looked uneasy. "My mum says I'm not supposed to use it because if anyone finds out they'll call the bounty hunters in Camelot and get me killed."

Will shrugged, "Well then we don't let them find out."

"And then the tree fell, and Will saw it was me, but he didn't even care," Merlin rambled to his mother, not even seeming to think twice of the fact that he was 16 and sitting on the kitchen table as she cooked. "Mom, he figured out I have magic and he doesn't hate me for it."

Hunith was shaking both her head, and her hands. "Merlin… I know Will's a nice kid, but what if he tells someone? You'll die!"

"Will won't tell anyone mom," Merlin beamed. "I know he won't because he's my best friend and the only person who has ever understood me, magic and all."

Hunith shook her head though. "I'm sorry Merlin, but I think…I think you need to go to Camelot."

"What? You're sending me to die? That doesn't even make sense." Merlin was still grinning, but it would disappear quickly. Especially as Hunith next spoke.

"It's not so much Will I'm worried about, it's the tree. You didn't even mean to but you crushed old man Simmon's home. Someone could have been killed. You need to go to Camelot and see my Uncle Gaius… he knows about things such as this. He can help."

Merlin held in his tears, but just barely. "But… but I don't want to go. What would I do in Camelot?"

"Ealdor is too small. It's too easy for you to be spotted. Camelot is so large nobody will notice you, especially with Gaius's help. You can be his apprentice… it will work Merlin."

The teen was shaking his head, "But what about you? And Will? My whole life is here you can't just send me away!"

"I must," Hunith confessed looking down at her stew. "I must. It's only in the belly of the beast that they won't be able to see you. You'll be safe in Camelot."

Merlin stormed out of the house, yelling as he went. "When you get a letter from this Gaius saying I've been executed then you can tell yourself that. I hope it makes you feel loads better."

"I've never seen Merlin that upset before," Gwen whispered as the scenes ended. "He really didn't want to come to Camelot. Why did Hunith make him?"

"She was scared," Gaius sighed as the lake came back into view. "She was scared sooner or later those people Merlin loved would find out the truth because then they could hurt him."

And now, as Merlin and Freya came into sight, Hunith's worst fears had been realized. Everyone knew Merlin was a warlock, even Prince Arthur of Camelot. Now they just had to decide what to do with this information.

* * *

Lullaby translation:

Emrys, the savior, free us from pain. Help as we walk through the night. The king sleeps through terror, his son unaware of the future he must bring.

Emrys, oh Emrys, save us from pain. Set us free from death. Immortal you lie from your first breath, until the day when magic dies.

When the night draws cold, and you go to rest, remember those who need your song. Remember those who've gone to their death, and sing them a lullaby.

Emrys, oh Emrys, we'll keep your secrets. Until the day you set us free. Remember your promise, your destiny, even as your bend you knee. Remember your promise your destiny, until Albion is free.


	11. Epilogue

Here is the final snippet. Now there is a much longer author's note at the bottom I do hope you'll read, but if not, just enjoy the ending.

* * *

Epilogue

Arthur drew his sword and, as everyone screamed at him to stop, ran towards Merlin. Resigning himself to his fate, Merlin fell to his knees awaiting the blow that would kill him.

A blow came, but to his shoulder, not to the neck. "I, Prince Arthur of Camelot, appoint you Merlin Emrys as court sorcerer of Camelot effective from the moment of my coronation onwards."

Merlin looked up, shock and confusion melding into his eyes as Arthur helped him stand. "You're not going to kill me? But I'm a warlock, who has been lying to you for almost four years. I mean I've lied to you about everything Arthur, and you just appointed me court sorcerer?"

Arthur laughed, those around him relaxing visibly. "I told you that my views on magic had changed. As for the lies you'll be in the stocks for the rest of the week, but only after you tell me everything you've done. If you're Emrys and supposed to help me, I want to know how a useless fool like you has."

"But, court sorcerer? Magic is still illegal Arthur, or did you forget?"

Arthur sighed at his friend's words. "It's not in effect until I'm king for that exact reason. I can't do anything about the laws on magic until my father dies, but then I promise I will make magic legal. I decided to do that last night, after seeing the stuff with Mordred. You're just the icing on the cake."

"But you don't hate me?"

Arthur shook his head, "No, Merlin you're a fool, but I could never hate you. Punish you, of course, but never hate you. Now come on, we need to get back to Camelot, and you have much to tell me. To tell us all."

Merlin looked upon the faces of his friends. Some, such as Leon, looked a bit apprehensive, but no one was going to attack him. His secret was out. He was safe. Destiny had known what she was doing. "Well, it started the day I met you actually…when I cheated during our duel…" Merlin began to explain as they walked back towards Camelot, destiny smiling over them. She'd defied herself, and it turned out for the better.

* * *

 **Ha ha, everything turns out well in the end doesn't it. Thank you so much for reading. It means more than you can ever imagine to me. Still, I'm going to ask more of you. You may have noticed me saying a few chapter ago that I'm working on another AU Merlin fic in which he is (spoilers) Uther's illegitimate child. Now there are a ton of those, which all just go through the show, but that gets really boring. Because of that I've decided to make new 'episodes' per say, but I need help. So far I have like 4 'episodes' planned, but some of them need to come later in the story so I can't write them right now. So I beg you to give me ideas. What have you always wanted to see happen? What mythological creatures would you like to see? Please, I need any and all suggestions as ridiculous as they may be. I beg you, please, help me.**

 **With that said, I'd like to thank you again, and hopefully see you in a couple weeks when I start posting this new fic. (I want to have like 21 or so chapters written before I start posting because if I can't write a single chapter in three weeks we have a much bigger problem then my update schedule.) Thanks again!**


	12. New Fan fic

**Hi guys! Since a lot of you expressed interest in reading my new fic but I haven't seen your name popping up in my notifications I realized you might not know it's up. Well it is up, so I hope you'll go and read it. Here is an excerpt for your enjoyment!**

* * *

 _And you remember my two rules?_ Hunith's words rang in her son's mind as he caught sight of the city before him. _Don't reveal your magic and don't tell anyone where you're from or who I am._

Despite his mother's explanation, Merlin still didn't get the second rule. How could someone like her have people who'd 'wish him ill' should they find out who his mother was? She was just a simple healer from a small village that no king cared about. She wasn't anyone important.

Yet, she seemed more insistent on her second rule than the first, so Merlin had agreed. If there was something more dangerous than his magic, then he wanted nothing to do with it.

"Are you Gaius?" the boy asked walking into the room labeled 'Court Physician.' Startled, the old man dropped the potion in his hand, only to find it dangling before him.

"How did you do that?" Gaius asked as Merlin's concentration broke and the vial smashed. "Oh, you must be Merlin, Hunith's boy. It makes sense now. Your mother's letters said you needed instructing in something I knew well. I see now she didn't mean medicine like I assumed."

Merlin was relieved that this man wasn't screaming for him to be burned, and realized that his own mother had broken rule number one. "My mother told you about my magic?"

Gaius nodded, going to clean up the liquid. "Not in so many words. I only knew just now when I saw you try to keep the potion from falling. It was quite impressive where did you learn such magic?"

"I've always been able to do it," Merlin admitted grabbing a rag to help the old man. He worried Gaius might not be able to get back up should he bend down. "Ever since I was a baby my mother said. Hang on, how come you're not calling for my arrest?"

Gaius raised an eyebrow into what Merlin would later know as his signature stare. "Well it wouldn't be good form to get my ward executed, now would it? Besides, I do not share the King's views on magic. He is blinded by fear; a fear I do not share. I studied magic myself until the king outlawed it. Corrupt people use magic; magic doesn't corrupt people."

Merlin had only ever heard Will and his mother talk like this, and he felt relieved. How terrible it would have been to die minutes into his arrival? "I think that's why my mother sent me here. So you could teach me to control my magic."

"I'll very well try," Gaius admitted showing Merlin to the room that would be his. "But you must be careful Merlin. Little slip ups like that will get you killed."

Merlin nodded, shocked about how little control he'd had. Usually he was much better at keeping a lid on things. "Oh, my mother gave me a letter for you," he recalled pulling out the parchment. "I'll leave you to it then."

"Yes, settle in, and Merlin," Gaius called as the boy went to shut the door. "I'm glad your mother did send you. You are quite extraordinary." Merlin nodded and shut the door leaving Gaius to read Hunith's letter.


End file.
